


Beautiful Death

by MathConcepts



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Canon Divergence, Character Death, Drabble, Drabble inspired by some art I made, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Jon's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-29 22:23:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20089744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MathConcepts/pseuds/MathConcepts
Summary: Jon stays with Dany until the very end.





	Beautiful Death

He looked down at her, so still and so beautiful, looking as if she were simply sleeping, and felt his breath catch in his throat. What had he done? _What had he done?_ He wanted to scream, but the scream caught in his throat too, and he choked, shuddering as the horror of it set in.   
  
What was he, who was he that he could do this, that he could kill the woman he loved? Just moments ago, she had been in his arms, excited, warm and _alive._ In love, in love with him, offering him the world. He had repaid her with the sharp end of his blade.  
  
Once, years and years ago, he had held another woman much like this, had wept against her body. He did not weep now, there would be no relief in tears, just as there would be no mercy for what he had done. He tore his eyes away from her, and above him, the Iron Throne entered his vision. It blurred, collapsing into misshapen fragments as his grief overtook the last of his control.  
  
The Iron Throne. It was so close. She had been _so close_. He clutched her body tighter, and took a step forward. He could not give her back the life that he had took, but in some paltry way, he could give her her greatest wish. Slowly, labored, he carried her over, leaving a trail through the ash and snow that coated the ground, and mounted the steps to the Iron Throne.  
  
A screech echoed from nearby, the call of a dragon. He hardly heard it as he sank onto the throne. The iron cradled him, drawing him into its treacherous embrace. He in turn cradled her, the weight of her almost comforting to him.   
  
The cruel knife still protruded from her chest, he wrapped fingers around its hilt and drew it away, tossing it to the floor where it clattered out of sight. _There. _Hazily he wondered how they looked, sitting on this throne in the spectacle of what could have been reality. But no one was there to answer such a question, save perhaps for the last dragon, the last true dragon.  
  
Drogon rose in the air above them, roaring his grief. The sound was sweet to Jon, it meant oblivion, it meant freedom, it meant fire, and death. It meant everything that Jon wanted now. He did not look up, he had no need to see what was coming. _“The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword.”_ his father had once said, an age ago, to some boy Jon hardly knew now. If it had been another time, Jon would have laughed, laughed that a beast had more honor in the end, than him, son of a man of honor.  
  
He stared out at the ruined throne room, waiting, weeping in earnest now. He had little time to wait. Another thunderous roar broke the air, and fire poured down before his eyes. He averted his eyes, looking down to see her one last time, the trickle of silver hair, the skin as pale as snow. _“Dany, Dany…” _he thought as the flames reached them, reached the throne, causing molten rivulets to snake out onto the ground beyond, _“I am sorry…” _  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The art that inspired it all -   
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ _


End file.
